


i will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely

by harukatenoh



Series: boys over flowers [1]
Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Developing Relationship, M/M, Plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:44:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/harukatenoh
Summary: Leo moves in next to Elliot when they're both nine. Thus begins a lifetime of growing up together, of yelling and of whispering, of doing homework and avoiding doing homework.Leo can also make plants grow, but this is not important to Elliot.





	i will buy the flower shop, and you will never be lonely

**Author's Note:**

> god. God. this is so fucking long and i am screaming my ass off  
> elleo is seriously one of those ships that i can just write and everything just comes to me naturally i love them so much... i can't believe i pulled off a 14k fic just like that im AMAZED.
> 
> i'm really into magical realism it's one of my fave tropes and this is basically just an excuse for me to go wild with flower meanings
> 
> song title is from the gambler by fun, which was on repeat while i was writing this, and is the warmest song in the world

Elliot’s older sister sat him down one night, her face severe. Vanessa was often severe, but there was a comical exaggeration in it that Elliot could always pick out; a sign that she didn’t mean it, that it was just in her features.

However, this time, she was simply severe.

“We’re getting new neighbours,” She said, tone lecturing. Elliot nodded. He had seen the moving trucks earlier today, had caught sight of a small, frail looking child being ushered into the house. Naturally, he was curious.

“They have a son your age,” Vanessa continued, bringing Elliot’s attention back to her. “He can make plants grow.”

Elliot’s curiosity spiked.

Vanessa’s expression was softening now, looking like she had gotten the hard part over with. “Stay away from him, okay Elliot?” She asked, looking into his eyes with a serious stare. Elliot couldn’t help but hold her gaze and her seriousness, even though he couldn’t quite grasp the gravity she was according to the situation. He nodded, feeling like Vanessa had just entrusted him with some great secret.

Vanessa smiled at him, pleased with how well he was cooperating. Elliot, realizing that the conversation was over, asked if he could go. His feet were itching at staying still that long, a side effect of his age, and with a laugh Vanessa allowed him to run off.

* * *

 

Elliot Nightray prided himself in being good at everything. At least, he thought he was good at everything. This attitude wasn’t totally his fault—his older brother Ernest had once told him that he was going to rule the world, with all the talent running in his veins. It had inflated his ego, spurred on by the idealism of childhood.

However, Elliot being good at everything also meant he was good at self-reflection, and this skill lead him to admit that perhaps, he wasn’t good at everything. The things he wasn’t good at were of course, limited, but they were there. He could narrow it down to a list of three, which he kept in his mind often, as a reminder of humility.

Number one: he was not good at things he had never tried. It was a given.

Number two: he was not good at maths. He had long given up on the horrid subject, those numbers that evaded him no matter how hard he tried in class, and try he did—there was nobody at good at trying as Elliot was.

Number three: he was not good at listening to what people tell him.

It was this last one that was his downfall, the day after Vanessa’s warning when he had been wandering in his garden and caught sight of the same small, frail child.

Later in life, he would say that he supposed he could have tried harder to turn away, to walk back inside. Elliot would also maintain that he had tried the best he could’ve, however, and it was unreasonable for anybody to expect that telling a nine year old to stay away from somebody new who was his age would work.

The boy was sitting in the garden alongside Elliot’s, on a rusty swinging seat that creaked with every movement it made. 

(“That’s another reason I had to go up to him,” Elliot had loudly claimed, “his damn seat was loud, and it was distracting me!”

Vanessa rolled her eyes.)

Walking up to the fence with loud footsteps, the thuds announcing his presence like a fanfare would, he leaned over and said “Hello?”. It was to Elliot’s credit that he kept his voice quiet, at least somewhat ashamed of breaking his promise with Vanessa only one day after he had made it.

The boy looked over his shoulder, surprised. He was wearing large glasses, and between them and his fringe, Elliot could barely see any of the boy’s face. That irritated him. He couldn’t even meet this stranger’s eyes, how was he supposed to befriend him?

Well, he  _ wasn’t _ supposed to befriend him, but Elliot did not concern himself with that thought for too long.

The boy simply stared at Elliot—or at least, Elliot thought he was staring at him, still couldn’t tell with the glasses and all—soundless, unmoving.

Elliot huffed.

“I said hello! You’re supposed to say it back.” He told the boy, matter of fact.

The boy tilted his head, closing the book that he had in his hands and  _ wow _ , that was a really large book. Elliot wondered what it was about.

“Hello?” The boy responded and Elliot frowned harder at how the word was put like a question, as if the boy was confused at basic politeness. Elliot wanted to tell him this, lecture him on the importance of having manners, but he realized there were a lot of other things he wanted to say and he would need to prioritize. After sifting through the list of comments to make in his head, a rare occasion where Elliot thought before he spoke, he asked: “Is it true you can control plants?”

The boy turned away from Elliot, and he got the feeling he had said something wrong. He couldn’t figure out what, but he leaned over the fence anyway, waving at the boy in an attempt to regain his attention.

“Hey, wait, I’m just trying to talk!” He called. He couldn’t see from this distance, but he thought the boy scoffed.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Elliot was momentarily put off by the boy’s cold tone. Key word: momentarily. In about five seconds, he had bounced back and was back to hanging over the fence, waving as he called “Why not? You’re being rude!”

The boy twisted back around to glare at Elliot, a glare that made Elliot blink despite the fact Elliot  _ still  _ couldn’t see his eyes, and  _ how was it possible for an unseen glare to even have that much power _ ?

He went to voice this thought, but then stopped again. The boy pulled his mouth down into a scowl, Elliot could see that at least, and with lip curled he said “I’m reading.”

Elliot saw the chance and jumped on it.

“I saw! What are you reading? That’s a really big book, I read a lot but I’ve never read one that big, isn’t it hard to read? Do you have a lot of books? Have you read the Holy Knight series?”

Elliot was determined to get out as many of his questions as he could in one go, since this boy seemed determined on keeping their meeting short. He gave up thinking about what he said after the first question, instead blurting out whatever came to mind because even though this boy was weird, and his sister told him to stay away, and he was rude, Elliot was curious. Elliot was determined.

The boy seemed to be stunned into silence at Elliot’s outburst. 

Elliot watched him expectantly as he looked down at the book in his hands, studying the cover intently. Elliot was not a patient person, so he furrowed his eyebrows and said “Don’t ignore me! You’re being  _ rude _ .” He repeated the phrase, putting emphasis on the last word so that the boy understood just how grave his sins were.

“ _ You’re _ being rude!” The boy snapped back. “I’m just trying to read! I don’t even know your name!” The volume of the boy’s voice steadily increased as he went on.

“It’s Elliot! And I’m just trying be friendly!” Elliot responded in his own yell, his volume escalating with every word.

“You’re doing a terrible job of it!” The boy yelled back. His book was closed now, hugged safely to his chest as he got up on his feet to get better shouting vantage.

“You’re not helping!” Elliot protested, blood running with excitement now that the boy was finally moving closer to Elliot.

The boy was scowling again, his entire demeanour darker for it as he walked over to Elliot, glowering at him from over the fence.

“I have no reason to be friends with you!” He said again and his voice wasn’t any quieter, even though they were barely a metre apart now. Elliot was not one to be outmatched, and certainly not one to be outmatched in a contest of yelling. He breathed in, gathering his strength and responded: “We’re neighbours! We’re the same age! Why can’t we be friends?”

“You’re annoying, and you just care about my powers!”

Elliot shrank back. The boy’s lip was trembling; with anger or with effort, Elliot could not tell. He took a step backwards, a pout already forming on his face.

“I don’t care about your powers,” Elliot said, voice pulled into a whine. “I just didn’t know what else to say.”

The boy laughed harshly. “Everybody cares about my powers. Don’t lie.”

“I’m  _ not _ lying, why would I care about some boring  _ plants _ , they’re dirty and there’s always bugs or other gross stuff on them and they make me sneeze and I just want to be your  _ friend _ , why is that so  _ bad _ , you’re so  _ rude _ !”

He breathed out heavily after his outburst, panting with the effort. Elliot had half a mind to turn back home, give up on this venture and go pouting to Vanessa about how she was right, the neighbour’s son was terrible, and Elliot was never going to speak to him again. He would be scolded of course, for even talking to him in the first place, but it would be worth the gentle way Vanessa would pat his head, how she and Ernest and Claude would attempt to cheer Elliot up.

He didn’t, however. He didn’t turn back, instead stayed standing at the fence with clenched fists and bright eyes as the boy simply stood there. Shocked into silence, again, Elliot imagined.

“Plants are nice…” was the reply that came after ages of standoff, weak and airy. Elliot pulled his features into an expression of distaste.

“So do you want to talk about the plants or not?” He huffed.

The boy shook his head quickly. “No! I don’t! I just think you shouldn’t say such mean things, it’s not like plants ever did anything to you.”

“Plants don’t have feelings, it doesn’t matter whether I say mean things.” Elliot huffed again, gentler this time now that his anger was running away from him.

The boy frowned at that, but instead of continuing the conversation he stopped hugging the book, sticking it out over the fence with the cover facing towards Elliot.

Elliot took in the words. It was not a book he recognized, or an author he recognized, but the cover was cool and the title was interesting and Elliot wanted to know more. Know more about the book, and about this boy.

“There. Are you happy now?”

Elliot scrunched up his nose at the boy’s standoffish tone.

“You didn’t answer my other questions,” he said pointedly.

“There were like, a million of them, how am I supposed to remember them all?” The boy responded, exasperated. Elliot glared at him.

“There were not  _ a million, _ only a few, you weren’t even listening to me!” Elliot was working his way back up to yelling again. “And also,” he said fiercely, “you didn’t tell me your name.”

The boy stilled at that, the stormy expression on his face replaced with a much smoother, considering one.

He pulled his book back to his chest and mumbled, low and unsure, “It’s Leo.”

Elliot lit up with the sense of victory. His previous grievances forgotten, he stepped towards the fence, sticking his hand over it and declaring proudly “Nice to meet you, Leo.”

It took Leo a while to realize that Elliot was offering him a handshake, only Elliot’s frown at the delay tipping him off, but when they did shake hands it was firm, solid, binding.

“Who even does that?” Leo muttered when they broke their grasp. “Shaking hands, are you fifty years old?”

Elliot gasped in protest, immediately proclaiming he was  _ nine already,  _ his mother told him he was  _ mature _ , he was  _ well raised _ . This time, at Elliot’s outburst, Leo wasn’t reduced to silence. Instead, he snickered, the sound developing into a bright laughter as Elliot was the one left speechless and staring.

“You’re so weird,” Leo said when he was done laughing and wow, did Elliot regret the loss of the sound. Leo had a smile on his face. Elliot pouted, but the expression did not last for long because he was sure—absolutely  _ sure _ —that he had just made a new friend. He broke into a smile too, excitedly going on to chatter about the Holy Knight book series to this exciting, mysterious new neighbour.

Around their feet, ignored by Leo and unbeknownst by Elliot, small yellow flowers bloomed.

* * *

 

Vanessa found out about Elliot’s total disregard of her words soon enough. Elliot had all the subtlety of a nine year old; that is to say, none. This time, however, it wasn’t Vanessa who came to lecture Elliot. No, it was Ernest and Claude, and Elliot was not in the least bit surprised. Ernest and Claude were usually behind the no-fun, no-play, boring adult things enforced on Elliot, even if Vanessa had been the one to deliver the message at first. They got her to tell Elliot because she was his favourite, he guessed. It was one of Ernest’s great ires, Elliot’s blatant favouritism.

“Elliot, you’ve been hanging out with the Baskervilles’ boy.” Ernest said, and he wasn’t even opening with a question, going straight for the accusation. Elliot shrugged.

“Actually, the Baskervilles have three sons. Which one are you talking about?” He said, a little snidely. So maybe he was stirring the fires a little. They should’ve sent Vanessa.

Ernest frowned, while Claude sighed. “Didn’t Vanessa tell you to stay away from him?”

Elliot shrugged again, focus still on the piano keys in front of him.

Ernest made an impatient noise. “Elliot, look at me. We—she—told you to stay away from him for a reason.”

Elliot turned to look at his brothers, albeit reluctant. “But I like him.” Elliot said with a pout. “He has cool books and knows a lot of things and he can play the piano too!”

He rattled off the list of Leo’s best qualities in his nine year old eyes, expecting that his brothers would see the light and leave him be. Instead, they just sighed again, both of them this time. Claude was the one who spoke next.

“Elliot. You have plenty of other friends. It’s best you stop seeing the Baskerville boy.” Claude said, tone measured and calm.

“His name is  _ Leo _ .” Elliot glared back, petulance unbridled.

“I don’t care if his name is Prince William, you are not to talk to him anymore!” Ernest cut in, exasperated. Elliot frowned harder than he had ever frowned at his brothers before, his eyebrows furrowing and nose scrunching and lips pulling down.

“You can’t make me,” he snapped, and because he was nine, and he was a bit of a brat, he turned around on the piano seat and started loudly mashing the keys.

Ernest attempted to say something else but Elliot willfully drowned it out with his latest creation, something he would come to dub  _ Adults Suck _ after he was done it with. For now, he continued to hit the keys until Claude said something to Ernest, and together they drew away with matching frowning faces. Elliot stopped playing.

That night began what would be known as “ _ the most stressful period of my life _ ” (dubbed so by Elliot’s parents), “ _ the moment I realized I needed to move out _ ” (dubbed so by Claude), and “ _ the biggest victory of my life to date _ ” so named by Elliot.

Elliot walked up to the dinner table, ignoring the looks of exasperation from his brothers and the look of weariness from his sister. Seating himself in his chair, he pushed his plate away from him on the table and announced: “If Ernest and Claude and Ness keep trying to get me to stop being friends with Leo, I’m not going to eat anymore.”

An ultimatum issued.

There was a loud clamour after that, his parents asking who Leo was, his brothers calling him a brat, Vanessa claiming he would cave in a few hours. All throughout, Elliot sat, resolutely staring at his plate without touching it at all. When everybody departed the table, askance looks thrown in Elliot’s direction, he was resolute in holding his head high, marching away to his room.

As it turned out, Elliot lasted. He outlasted all members of his family. Outlasted Vanessa, who was the first one to come asking him to  _ please eat _ , outlasted his parents whose vague, muddled concern did nothing to convince Elliot. He lasted two and a half days. His whole family had underestimated his friendship with Leo, underestimated his devotion to the irritable boy with interesting stories to tell and light fingers better at coaxing proper sounding music out of his piano than Elliot was. They underestimated Elliot’s obstinance, his stubbornly burning pride, his fiercely burning fondness for Leo, who was something entirely new and wonderful and unexplored.

Elliot Nightray was a force of nature, even as a stubborn child with wide eyes and messy hair. When Ernest finally came to Elliot’s door (he was the last one, Elliot had picked up his stubbornness from him, after all), Elliot felt the sense of victory rush through him.

“Elliot, alright, I can’t believe I have to do this, but you can be friends with the Baskervill—” Elliot cleared his throat and glowered, “—...Leo, if you want. Please,  _ please _ , just eat. I think Vanessa is going to kill me if you don’t.”

Elliot held his glare at Ernest for a while longer, watching the way genuine worry crossed his brother’s face, and asked “You pinky promise?”

Ernest nodded, immediately sticking out his hand.

Elliot put out his own hand, considerably smaller but just as powerful, and locked pinkies with his brother with a solemn nod.

“Okay. I’ll eat.”

Vanessa burst into the room, a tray of food already in her hands that she set down onto Elliot’s table with a loud  _ clang _ . Then, she walked over to Elliot, looking like she was about to kill him, or really violently force-feed him. What she did instead was pull him into a hug, tears already forming as she began to whisper about how  _ ridiculous _ Elliot was, how much he  _ worried  _ her _ , _ how _ goddamn relieved _ she was. Elliot knew that it was serious because Vanessa even swore in front of him, so he wrapped his arms around her too and breathed out shakily, his stomach rumbling.

Later, Ernest returned to apologize to Elliot in sincerity, Claude soon following. Elliot, stomach full and friendship kept, fell asleep with a story of his conquest to tell Leo in the morning hanging in his head.

* * *

 

“You  _ starved yourself _ to stay friends with me?” Leo asked. Elliot really didn’t like the tone of horror in Leo’s voice, or the way his hands went white with how hard he clenched the Holy Knight book Elliot had brought to lend him.

With a self-conscious shrug, Elliot mumbled “Yeah. Duh.”

Leo’s glasses were off (they were reading glasses, Elliot had discovered), so Elliot could see how Leo blinked rapidly at him, even if his fringe got in the way slightly. 

“But… why?” Leo asked again, quieter.

Elliot looked at him as if he had grown another head.

“Why? Because I wanted to be your friend, obviously!” Elliot was a little too forceful with his words, sparking up a flame that Leo had no trouble responding to.

“We’ve only known each other for a few days!” Leo snapped, looking at Elliot as if he was the one with extra body parts growing. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I couldn’t just stop talking to you randomly! You would’ve felt bad!  _ I _ would’ve felt bad!” Elliot fired off, pushing closer to Leo in his frustration.

Leo narrowed his eyes.

“So you just didn’t eat, for two days.” He said, each of the words heavy. Elliot nodded. Leo turned away very rapidly, his voice wavering as he said: “Because you wanted to stay my friend.”

“That’s what I just said.” Elliot replied, but his tone was no longer harsh. Leo still wasn’t looking at Elliot, and he didn’t understand why, so he got up from the seat and went around to face Leo.

Leo immediately jerked away again, turning his back to Elliot, who was completely lost by this point.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Elliot half-yelled. This was not how he had imagined his recount of his amazing adventure going.

“N—nothing!” Leo stammered back, out at the space where Elliot was not. His voice was very high as he said it, leaving Elliot with the fear that something was terribly wrong. Elliot’s own voice only went like that when he was extremely tired, and Leo had been fine just a second ago, or when he was crying.

“Leo?” Elliot tried again, softer this time, like he was afraid of what the response would be.

Leo simply sniffled. He was definitely crying. Elliot asked anyway.

“Are you  _ crying? _ ” and Elliot couldn’t help but sound a little incredulous, a little bewildered. Leo shook his head aggressively, one hand leaving the Holy Knight book to come up to his face. Elliot moved around again, positioning himself so that he was facing Leo. Before Leo could turn away again, Elliot grabbed his face, holding him with his hands and staring straight at him.

Leo was crying, soft little sniffles escaping a wobbling mouth and hot tears running out of wide, wet eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Elliot asked, aghast at the state of his new friend. Leo stammered a bit before coming up with a response, hindered by the fact his tears were not stopping, even if he was trying to keep them in.

“B—because you, you did something as—as  _ ridiculous _ and  _ dense _ as starving yourself,” and he practically yelled those last two words, “f—for me?”

Leo looked rather pathetic. Elliot really hated to see other people cry, he never knew what to do with himself, and he really wanted it to stop. With a huff he wiped Leo’s tears with his shirt sleeve, even going as far as to wipe the snot trailing from his nose.

Leo swallowed, still sniffling and whimpering and making all the ridiculous noises you did when you cried. Elliot sighed, making the sound as dramatic and exaggerated as he could get it.

“Why are you crying over that?” Elliot blustered, ignoring the way Leo’s mouth opened to respond and continuing straight on. “We’re friends, and I like you, and your books, and I’m not letting any adults tell me what to do!”

Leo quietened. 

The embarrassment set in quickly for Elliot after that, and with red cheeks he sat back down on Leo’s rusty swing and crossed his arms.

When Leo finally stopped crying, he looked over at Elliot. Elliot had been staring at him unabashedly, waiting for any sign that he was finally back to being a sane person again. Leo still looked a bit overwhelmed, but at least he was looking at Elliot now.

“So,” Leo began, voice still unsure, “tell me about your older sister.”

Elliot’s shoulders drooped in relief at Leo’s return to normalcy, and within seconds he launched into an impassioned recount of his sister and his exploits with her, detailing how she was his favourite (and insisting that it wasn’t bad to have favourites among his siblings) while Leo listened, enraptured.

This time, Elliot didn’t notice the way the primroses in Leo’s garden burst into colour either, turning towards Elliot just like Leo was, soaking in his sunlight.

* * *

 

They found out they went to the same school and were in the same class a month later, when school resumed again. It was like everything was falling into place, and much to the ire of his older siblings, Elliot and Leo became inseparable. 

Elliot noticed, eventually, connecting the way flowers and grass shoots always showed up on their walks to school, always around Leo’s feet. In the time they spent in Leo’s garden, full of flowers and bushes and trees, Elliot hardly noticed the stray plant popping up here and there. However, when they moved from place to place, when Leo stood by the pitiful flower beds in front of the convenience store and they suddenly didn’t look so pitiful anymore, Elliot noticed. He remembered the reaction that talking about the plants got him last time, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he settled for watching the way the world came to life wherever Leo stepped, marvelling in it.

In the end, it was Leo who brought it up.

Elliot and Leo were faced with the hard decision of choosing where to sit for lunch, since it was warm enough to sit outside instead of in class. The first few days, they wandered around the yard, talking as they walked and holding their lunchboxes in their hands. 

Of course, they both tired of this eventually, turning to find a place that they could claim as their own. 

Elliot was in favour of sitting by the oval, so he could watch the upperclassmen play sports, but Leo had another idea.

“Let’s sit under that tree.” Leo said, stopping on their walk. Elliot turned around to see the tree Leo was looking at, a sad looking, obviously ailing tree that looked as inhospitable as it did pathetic. Elliot had no trouble voicing these thoughts.

Leo scowled at him, moving to bump Elliot with his shoulder.

“Let’s just sit there.” He offered no explanation, and Elliot wanted to demand one, or reject the idea completely. He instead followed Leo with a groan, setting his lunch box down under the tree and sitting himself leaning against the tree. The bark was peeling and it clung to Elliot’s uniform, a fact which he made sure to lament to Leo.

Leo looked cross as he flicked off a piece of bark caught in Elliot’s hair. 

“Stop complaining,” he said, almost commanded. Elliot shut up with a pout and a huff. Leo leant against the tree as well, beside Elliot. He looked like he was trying really hard to do something; what that something was, Elliot had no idea. He was just sitting by a tree, for god’s sake.

Finally, when Leo had gotten over looking constipated, he mumbled something. Elliot did not catch it.

“What? I didn’t hear you.” Elliot said, shifting his position to face Leo a bit more.

Leo scrunched up his nose and tried again, voice quiet but adamant.

“It’ll get better. If I’m around it, it’ll get better.”

It took Elliot a while to realize the significance of those words, but once he did, his jaw dropped open.

“You talked about it!” He exclaimed, sitting up straight. Leo looked like he regretted ever saying anything already.

“Yeah,” he mumbled again, face looking down at his lap. “I can. You know. Make it grow again.”

Elliot had no qualms about pushing into Leo’s personal space, eyes wide and shining as he whispered “Wow. Cool.”

Leo shook his head, pushing Elliot away from him slightly.

“Not that cool,” Leo sighed. “I can’t control it. I can just make things grow more or grow faster. It’s a useless ability.”

Elliot thought back to mornings spent admiring the way Leo breathed life into the world, breathed life into Elliot’s world, and thought that it was the furthest thing from useless.

He couldn’t properly vocalize this thought, however, the concept a little too cosmic for Elliot, as grand as he was at nine. Instead, he sat back down next to Leo, their shoulders touching.

“I think it’s cool anyway.” Elliot said, making it clear that, to him, the words were a fact. Leo had nothing to say in response, so they sat and ate. 

Elliot looked down at the ground beside him, where purple flowers had pushed out of the dirt between the roots. He couldn’t recognize them, but the way they opened up, looking up to the sun, took Elliot’s breath away.

A hand shaking Leo’s shoulder, Elliot asked “Do you know what flowers these are?”

Leo blinked sleepily in the late summer sunshine, looking down at the purple flowers surrounding Elliot and him. He hadn’t even realized, this time.

“Oh,” he said at first, and Elliot was afraid that that would be all he would say, that his willingness to open up about his ability ended at the conversation they had earlier.

Then, Leo took in a deep breath, and said “I think they’re crocus. Spring crocus.”

Elliot laughed. “It’s not spring, Leo, jeez.”

“I can’t control what grows, I told you, I have no control at all!” Leo protested in the face of Elliot’s laughter, as bright as the afternoon sunshine.

* * *

 

The years went by, and things changed. Elliot and Leo, miraculously survived those changes, staying together in their own little unit, their own little universe.

The tree made an astounding recovery, in the words of Elliot’s teachers. He was impossibly proud of Leo for it, and it took him a lot to not yell about Leo's wonderful job every time the tree was mentioned. Leo seemed happy about it too, his quiet pleasure showing whenever they sat under the tree.

Claude and Ernest moved out of the Nightray home. It felt emptier, without his brothers to laugh at and bother him. Elliot dreaded the day that Vanessa would leave too, leaving him behind, their baby brother always trailing behind.

Things changed in Leo’s life too. Through hushed whispers and shouting matches, Elliot learnt that he lived with a man called Oswald, a distant relative. Oswald had a sister, who too left the house after a falling out with Oswald that ended up in part her storming out, part Oswald kicking her out. Leo became the second eldest in the house, his two younger brothers Gilbert and Vincent following behind at two years and three years younger, respectively. 

Among all of the goodbyes, the tears and the departures, Elliot and Leo decided not to leave each other.

They entered junior high together, already a clique of their own. Some people came and went at the beginning, interested in breaking into their tightly knit circle but eventually disappointed. Elliot and Leo were just too close, too well tied together to undo their knots and ties and make room for somebody else.

Junior high brought an increase in homework, an increase in clubs and an increase in interest in things they had never quite considered before. With Ernest and Claude out of the house, Leo could finally come over and it thrilled Elliot to hear Leo play their piano—he had to be honest, the piano at Leo’s house was slightly out of tune, and every time Elliot asked him to change it, Oswald would just glare. 

Elliot was not easily frightened, but as he confessed to Leo one night, he thought Oswald was terrifying.

Elliot also had a bed that was, in his opinion, a lot more comfortable than Leo's bed. Leo, naturally, disagreed with him on this subject, but they were still over at Elliot's house more days than not. At the moment, they were lying together on Elliot's aforementioned extremely comfortable bed, worn out after their day of school.

“Leo, we should join a club.” Elliot said casually, addressing Leo lying beside him. Their settling in period for junior high was almost over, and it was time to get serious, in Elliot’s eyes. Leo attempted a shrug lying down. 

“Sure. What do you want to join?” He replied, listless with post-school laziness.

Elliot turned on his bed to face Leo. In his room, Leo had no access to any plants or earth, but Elliot swore he could still feel the aura coming off of Leo, alive and drumming. It was a little distracting, enough that Leo had to cough pointedly to bring Elliot back to their conversation topic.

“Don’t ignore me,” Leo said crabbily, “what club do you want to join?”

Elliot was notorious for not thinking before he spoke, but he admitted that when he immediately responded with “Gardening club.”, it was a new low for him.

Leo wasted no time shoving a pillow point blank into Elliot’s face. Elliot’s yell was muffled by a mouthful of cotton, and when he recovered enough to pull it off of him, Leo was already standing up and glaring.

“I’m best friend dumping you.” Leo informed him. Elliot made a noise that was halfway between a whine of protest and a whine of question.

“You heard me, you’re getting best friend dumped.” Leo said again, still matter of fact. Elliot sat up on his bed, scowling.

“I really don’t think that term can be used like that.” He responded, in the exact same infuriating, informative tone. “Also you could  _ never _ .”

Leo knew he was fighting a losing battle, but he was an expert in fighting losing battles. They were always arguing, and somebody had to be wrong during all of those arguments. Needless to say, they both had plenty of practice with going down with a dying cause.

“I so could.” Leo snapped.

“So could not.”

Elliot and Leo glared at each other, weighing up whether this fight would be worth it. They were both tired, and of all the inane things they fought about, this was pretty damn inane. In the end, Leo caved first, flopping back into the bed with a sigh and a sharp “Just choose a club, you jerk.”

Before they could discuss further, Vanessa knocked on the door. Not waiting for a response to her knock, she pushed the door open, asking “Elliot? Do you want something to eat?”

She paused in her movement when she saw the two of them, lying on the bed.

“Oh, Leo. I didn’t see you come in.” She said, as a way of greeting. Elliot knew that Vanessa didn’t approve of his friendship with Leo, but she always held back from saying anything. Elliot was glad for it; his relationship with his older brothers had grown rockier as Elliot grew closer to Leo, and he didn’t want a repeat with Vanessa.

Leo sat up on the bed, bowing his head and greeting Vanessa.

“He’s here to help me with homework.” Elliot offered as an explanation. Vanessa looked very doubtful at that, with reason; Elliot and Leo had not even opened their books since getting home, opting to lie on Elliot’s bed and complain instead.

Vanessa frowned at the two, but eventually, her expression smoothed out and with a sigh, she said “If either of you are hungry, there’s food in the fridge. And  _ do your work _ .”

They both gave their  _ thank you _ s as Vanessa walked off, ignoring her last words as they went back to discussing clubs.

In the end, they each joined several, some separate, and it was the first time they had willingly parted ways. Elliot joined the track and field team. Leo joined the flower arrangement club (Elliot did not let that one go for  _ months _ ) and together, they had the music ensemble and literature club.

Leo went to all of Elliot’s track meets, stood up in the crowd and yelled at Elliot whenever he faltered. Elliot was always the first to see Leo’s arrangements, and he swore up and down that Leo’s were always brighter, always more vibrant than the others in the club, even if Leo insisted his power didn’t work on already cut flowers.

They overcame the first few months of junior year in leaps and bounds and carefully cut flowers, but the year had much more in store for them.

* * *

 

This was what they knew about Leo’s abilities.

Number one: he could make already existing plants grow faster, or grow healthier, essentially aiding the growth process.

Number two: he could not control it.

Number three: sometimes, when Leo was in a good mood, flowers and plants would burst from the ground, surrounding the two in dots of colour. 

Number four: he could not control what grew, or how much, either.

There were more points, as they found out later that year. 

That morning, Elliot went over to Leo’s house, waiting for him by the gate like he always did, ready to walk to school. Leo opened his door soon afterwards, stepping out into his garden with unsteady feet.

Elliot, fine tuned in Leo’s emotions, could tell something was wrong instantly. He waved brightly at Leo, who barely waved back, calculating whether it was one of those days where he would have to annoy the problem out of Leo, or if he should leave it alone.

He luckily did not have to fret over it too much longer, because as soon as Leo was away from his house, he started talking.

“Lacie came back yesterday. Don’t know why. She and Oswald were yelling again this morning.” He muttered, each word stubbornly said. Elliot shuddered. Oswald was scary enough as it was; him yelling must be another thing altogether.

“Gil started crying,” and Leo sounded like he was about to cry himself, so Elliot pulled a little closer to him on the sidewalk, “but they didn’t stop. He and Vince ran to school really early.”

Elliot frowned. His mood was plummeting as well, because he hated hated  _ hated _ to see Leo upset, and hated even more if Gil was upset too, because Elliot really had a soft spot for Leo’s younger brother.

“Then, after they left, Oswald and Lacie started slamming doors—” Leo’s voice wavered dangerously, so he cut off his sentence. Elliot stepped closer to Leo still, til their shoulders were touching.

“You should’ve left with Vince and Gil.” Elliot said roughly.

“I was waiting for you.” Leo replied, his voice small. Elliot gulped. He didn’t have anything to say to that, but Elliot was determined to make Leo feel better somehow, to remind Leo that he had Elliot, to give Leo a reason for waiting for him.

Elliot looked over at Leo, who was staring into the distance, eyes glassy. With another frown, he grabbed Leo’s hand beside him, squeezing it.

“What are you— _ ow _ ,” Leo broke off his question as Elliot squeezed harder, face stormy.

“Shut up.” He said, not looking Leo in the eye. “I’m trying to make you feel better. I’m here for you, you know?”

Leo didn’t say anything in response to that, instead squeezing Elliot’s hand back, a silent  _ thank you _ . Elliot could tell that Leo was still upset, but he seemed less like he was on the verge of tears, more grounded. Elliot was spectacularly bad (that was another thing he had to add to the list, bringing it up to four) at comforting people, but he was pretty proud of this.

They stepped into the park they crossed to get to school, a handy shortcut and the number one reason they used to be late in elementary school. They had eventually exhausted the park’s secrets and exploration value, so now they just went through it, admiring the way it came to life around Leo.

Except this time, it did not.

Leo let out a strangled sound of shock when he looked down at his feet, letting go of Elliot’s hand as he stumbled back. Elliot, alarmed, jumped around at the sound, following Leo’s gaze to where Leo had just been standing before, where patches of wilted and withering grass were now.

Leo stepped back, away from the scene with his eyes wide in horror, but that didn’t help; the fading plants following where Leo stepped.

Leo was panicking, Elliot could tell, the fear evident on his face as he stepped back more, tripping over himself in his haste and falling backwards. 

Underneath Leo’s splayed palms, the earth decayed. He gave another shriek of horror as dead grass came away in his hands. 

“Leo—Leo, calm down, Leo listen to me—” Elliot shouted, even though the park was dead quiet apart from the two of them. Leo ignored Elliot completely, curling in on himself to try and reduce the space he took up and Elliot started to panic too. He moved forward, walking towards Leo, who shied away from him with a whimper.

Elliot faltered at Leo’s balking, but he pushed forward anyway, coming down to slide his arms under Leo’s knees and around his shoulders and  _ lifting _ him, unsteadily, staggering, but lifting him off of the ground.

Leo shut up, mainly from shock at the fact Elliot was carrying him, bridal style, arms shaking with the effort.

He walked them over to a park bench, dropping Leo onto it, safely above the ground. Panting, he pointed at Leo and yelled, basically commanded, “Calm down,  _ please _ .”

Leo swallowed and, with shaky breaths, calmed down. Lying on the bench, he stared up at Elliot with wide eyes, both of them breathing heavily as they stood in their face-off.

Finally, Elliot sat down beside Leo on the bench.

“Was that you?” Elliot asked quietly. Leo nodded, his throat dry. Elliot exhaled slowly as Leo pulled himself up into a sitting position, huddled beside Elliot on the bench with his knees hugged to him.

“That was  _ awful _ ,” Leo said. Elliot nodded, perhaps a little too readily. Leo didn’t pick up on it.

They sat like that for a while, both aware that they were going to be late to school, both too shaken to really care. It was Elliot who broke the silence, unsure as he looked over at Leo.

“It makes sense…” he started, uneasy. “When you’re in a good mood, there are always flowers and stuff growing around you, so it makes sense that when you’re in a bad mood… well… yeah.”

Leo, tight lipped and pale, nodded.

Elliot felt a need to fill up the silence, to say anything to change the way Leo stared into the distance blankly, so he kept talking. “And it’s not like it won’t grow back, you can just come back tomorrow when you feel better and you can fix it, or you could wait for it to happen naturally, it’s fine, it’s nothing that bad—”

Leo cut Elliot off with a final sounding “Elliot, shut  _ up _ .”

Elliot stopped talking guiltily.

Leo glared at him, but at least he looked a little more alive, a little more present.

“What am I supposed to do every time I’m upset?” Leo demanded. “I—I can’t go through that again, it was  _ awful _ , how do we even get to school today?”

Leo’s voice grew increasingly hysterical as he went on, the panic setting back in and Elliot couldn’t think of anything else, just grabbed Leo’s hand in an attempt to ground him. It worked, with Leo focusing on Elliot’s hand awkwardly around his own, giving Elliot time to think.

“I have an idea.” Elliot said, after a while. He stood up, releasing Leo’s hand.

Turning his back to Leo, he said “Get on.”

Leo frowned.

“What?”

“Get on my back.” Elliot sighed, trying to keep the embarrassment from taking him over. “If I piggyback you, you won’t be touching the ground, right? It’ll be fine.”

Leo tried to come up with something coherent to say, but in the end all that he said was “You—you can’t just—” but he was interrupted by Elliot groaning impatiently.

“Just do it! It’s the only solution we have, and if we’re any later to school Vanessa is going to  _ kill  _ me when I get home!”

There was a period of silence, and Elliot was growing more regretful of the series of events that lead up to this moment in his life with each passing second. Then, there was a shuffling, and a weight landed on his back. With a grunt, he shifted, trying to manoeuvre Leo into a more comfortable position.

“Grab my bag,” Elliot ordered, rocking on his feet as he got used to Leo’s weight on his back. Leo wasn’t particularly heavy, and Elliot was strong, so it didn’t take long for Elliot to grow accustomed.

They set off across the park, and the grass beneath Elliot’s feet remained undisturbed. 

Leo buried his face in Elliot’s shoulder, mumbling “Thank you,”. Elliot huffed, with what breath he could spare.

“Don’t cry on my uniform.” He said, trying to sound harsh but failing.

“I wasn’t going to cry, you ass, I’m just being grateful,” Leo responded reproachfully, his head lifting.

“I will drop you,” Elliot threatened as he felt Leo poke him in the cheek. Leo laughed at that, a shaky one but it was his first laugh of the day, thank god, and Elliot felt the tension drain out of him.

“If you ever feel bad,” Elliot said, “just tell me. I’ll piggyback you. I don’t mind.” Leo was quiet against Elliot’s back as those words hung in the air. Elliot felt him nod, whispering another  _ thank you _ into the crook of Elliot’s neck.

When they arrived at school, they both endured a lecturing from their teacher and a detention. Leo was quiet for the rest of the day, but when they sat down under their tree—Leo having tested out his steps on the grass to make sure that nothing bad would happen beforehand—Elliot could feel he was okay.

And when a purple, bell shaped flower grew in the space between Elliot and Leo, Elliot knew that he was okay.

* * *

 

Thankfully, there were little occasions where Elliot had to carry Leo in the coming year, and the year after that. There was a period of contentment, starting from the summer holidays between their second and third year of junior high, that stretched into the first month of their third year as well. Of course, all good things came to an end, and while they were walking home one day, Leo asked if Elliot could carry him across the park.

Elliot looked over, surprised, because Leo hadn’t mentioned anything about feeling bad this morning, or during the day. He did look rather upset, though, a darkness over his face that wasn’t just the shadow of his fringe.

With a shrug, Elliot handed his bag to Leo, and said “Okay, sure.”

Leo’s weight on his back was a familiar one, even if he was a little out of practice. They walked across the park, silent, until Elliot sighed and changed track towards the familiar park bench.

He wasted no time dumping Leo onto the bench, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Leo.

“We aren’t going home?” Leo asked, sounding annoyed at his rough treatment. Elliot sat down on the bench and turned, glaring at Leo.

“You aren’t gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

Leo’s expression went from open and irritated to cold and shut off in a matter of seconds.

“No.”

Elliot was not expecting that to be the answer. Unsure how to proceed, he just glared at Leo a while longer, before giving up and leaning back against the bench.

“Fine. We’ll just sit here.”

Leo turned to look at him incredulously. “What is that supposed to mean?” He snapped, eyes narrowing at the stubborn set of Elliot’s jaw.

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s wrong, and you can’t go anywhere without me.” He replied, tone level. Leo gave a gasp of incredulity.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Leo snapped again, crossing his arms.

Elliot shrugged. “Okay. It’s up to you.”

Leo stared at Elliot in frustration and bewilderment, at a loss for words as Elliot pulled a book out of his bag and started reading, making his intent for staying on the bench very clear. Leo spluttered.

“You are so  _ ridiculous _ ,” he started, but didn’t finish. Elliot continued to read, flipping the pages idly as Leo glowered at him.

Finally, Leo turned away, opening his own bag to angrily pull out a book as well. It was a book Elliot had let him borrow, Elliot recognized, which just seemed to make Leo angrier. He shut the book with a thud, throwing it back in his bag in favour of frowning hard at a tree on the other side of the park.

Elliot was content to just read. The park was peaceful and quiet, and Leo’s company was always enjoyable, even if he looked like he was ready to commit murder at any second now.

It was Leo who caved first, because nobody had yet been able to stand up to the might of Elliot’s sheer obstinance, breaking his staring contest with the tree with a groan.

“ _ Fine _ ,” Leo hissed, turning to glare at Elliot once more. “You… You got confessed to today, right?”

Elliot blinked, blindsided by the question.

“Yeah?” He said, more of a question than a response.

The girl had been cute enough, shy and red to the tips of her ears. She was in another class and Elliot didn't know her name, couldn't catch it when she had been rapidly mumbling during the confession. He had felt a little bad turning her down but he didn't know her at all, barely noticed that she was in his classes and well, that was never a good basis for a relationship.

“What did you say?” Leo mumbled. Elliot thought he could hear embarrassment in his tone.

Elliot put his book down, shrugging. “I said no, obviously.” He gave Leo a searching look as he said this, but Leo’s face offered no explanation for his question.

“Obviously,” Leo parroted, his voice blank.

“Obviously.” Elliot said again, just to make sure Leo got the message. Leo just stared at Elliot, which he supposed was a step up from glaring at him. He was no closer to getting at why Leo was so upset about him being confessed to, unless he was jealous, god forbid. He had to ask.

“What, are you jealous?” It was a ridiculous notion. Elliot was aware of his modest popularity at school, but whatever he had, Leo could match. Leo had an enticing aura, the mysterious broody vibe going on that girls seemed to love. On top of the rumours flying around about him having powers and such, it was no surprise that Leo had admirers.

Leo pursed his mouth, staying silent. Elliot decided he had to inform Leo of his popularity, since he seemed to be oblivious of it to the point where he got jealous of Elliot for getting one measly confession.

“You're plenty popular as well, you know that right? I get people all the time asking me to pass on messages to you, so don't be jealous. You'll get one soon. And honestly, they aren’t that big of a deal, I don’t see what all the fuss is about dating and stuff.” Elliot's habit of over-talking to compensate for how bad he was at comforting people was kicking in. He was practically lecturing Leo, unsure why he was so annoyed at how adamant Leo was in denying his good points. Leo had a serious habit of downplaying his talents, always being self-depreciating, and it annoyed the hell out of Elliot because in Elliot’s eyes, Leo was incomparable.

“You don’t want to date anybody?” Leo asked. 

Elliot stalled. He had prepared so many lines, so many tough love lectures in his head, but he had not expected Leo to focus on that part of his rant, of all things.

He had to think for a while for something to say, Leo once again blindsiding him in the conversation. Leo didn’t let up in staring at Elliot the entire time, his gaze heavy with expectation. Elliot squirmed uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“Yeah, I don’t really care about that right now. Maybe later but, you know. It’s a big year for us. I don’t wanna spend it worrying about dates and stuff.” 

Something changed in Leo then, a visible deflation of tension that sent him slumping against the bench, laughing a little breathlessly. Elliot, frankly, had no idea what was going on, but he leaned back as well, matching Leo’s smile.

“You’re being weird,” Elliot informed Leo. Leo nodded, considering.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine now.” He told Elliot, all of his hostility and anger gone, replaced by what could almost be called relief. Elliot felt he was getting an idea of what had Leo so worried.

“Were you afraid that I’d ditch you for a girlfriend or something?” Elliot asked, leaning forward so that his face was in Leo’s, offering him no escape. Leo stared at Elliot, his mouth open slightly. The expression was almost cute, which pissed Elliot off for some reason, so he turned away and, arms crossed, said: “You know I would never do that. You’re my best friend, way better than any girlfriend.”

Leo didn’t say anything to that, just laughed again, shakily like before.

“Do you need me to carry you home?” Elliot asked, now that he was satisfied with the resolution of Leo’s problem. Leo shook his head, stretching out his legs as he prepared to stand up. When he did, the grass beneath his feet remained grass, even if it was a little crushed. Elliot let out a sigh of relief.

“Alright, let’s go, before anybody worries.” Elliot said, standing up alongside Leo. 

As they walked across the park, Elliot noticed how flowers of several different kinds, purple and yellow and red and orange, bloomed at Leo’s feet. He scoffed, unbelieving, at the complete switch in Leo’s attitude, but didn’t mention it past a smile shot in Leo’s direction.

* * *

 

Elliot and Leo spent most of their time together arguing. Teachers used to marvel at how they were even friends, with how often they were at each other’s throats, but regardless of their bickering and squabbling, they had never truly had a real argument.

This changed at the end of junior high, mirroring the change in their own lives.

They were lying in Leo’s garden, escaping from the stress of homework and revision and the future. The end of junior high was looming, and so were entrance examinations, and the eventual entry into senior high; a new world, an unexplored one.

Elliot wasn’t too worried about it. As long as he had Leo by his side, nothing was too daunting.

“Elliot,” Leo breathed into the darkening sky. The sun was setting, they were both expected back in their houses by nightfall. It didn’t stop Elliot from feeling like he had all the time in the world, to spend with Leo with him.

“Yeah?” Elliot replied.

“Where do you want to go, for senior school?” Elliot didn’t know why Leo was asking. They hadn’t had a proper discussion about it yet, true, but it was obvious. Elliot had always had his sights set on one place, on one shining future.

“Lutwidge Academy,” he said, unblinkingly. Beside him, Leo lifted up onto his elbows so he could look at Elliot. Naturally, Elliot mirrored the movement.

Like he was poised for attack, Leo said “I can’t go there.” An attack it was, because Elliot felt vaguely like he had just been punched.

“What?” Elliot responded, hasty and confused. “What do you mean?”

Maybe Elliot was a little naive, a little ridiculous in assuming that Leo would always be with him. However, a life without Leo was not one that Elliot could quite comprehend, a cosmic concept that, like so long ago when he was nine and watching Leo put colour into the world, his heart simply could not wrap around.

Leo was cold, unforgiving, when he said again, “I can’t go there.”

Elliot couldn’t tell whether Leo was starting a fight, or whether there was something more serious going on, so he simply asked “Why not?”

“Did you really think I’d follow you anywhere, like some kind of pet dog?”

Leo was definitely picking a fight now. Elliot could tell, in the way Leo twisted his voice into something ugly and bitter, in the way he completely ignored that Elliot never, never thought of Leo like that and he knew that. Elliot filled with rage within seconds, probably the desired reaction, but it didn’t stop him from lashing back.

“What the fuck, Leo? You  _ know _ that’s not what it is, I just want to go to school with my best friend.” Elliot was sitting up now, gaining the physical dominance as he loomed over Leo, looking down with stormy eyes.

Leo did not hesitate to push back, sitting up to glare at Elliot eye to eye, on the same level because that was what they were: equals.

“Well too bad, Elliot! I guess you’re just too used to getting whatever you want, but this is not happening!” Leo was shouting now, right in Elliot’s face and he couldn’t help but flinch, pull away from Leo with wide eyes.

Something was wrong. Elliot knew something was wrong. He knew Leo, and he knew the rhythm of their arguments and this was something entirely different, out of his depth completely. Confused and irrational, he fell back on his anger, building up in his throat.

“Fine! Holy shit, if you didn’t want to go to the same school as me, you could’ve just said! I thought our friendship meant more to you than that, but  _ whatever _ I guess!” 

Leo scoffed at the words, giving Elliot no reason for regret.

“What are you gonna do, Elliot?” Leo’s tone was cruel, it was downright venomous as he spat “Are you gonna run back to your rich mummy and daddy and get them to buy you a new best friend? Since you don’t want me?”

Elliot balked at that. Something was really, really wrong but he couldn’t figure out what, and Leo was giving him no chance, no edging room as he backed Elliot onto a ledge. Some of Elliot’s hurt must have shown on his face, because Leo’s cold mask wavered for a moment, Leo hesitating in the moment.

Then, like doors slamming shut, the cold returned to Leo’s expression.

Elliot couldn’t take this. If Leo wanted to go to a different school, or stop being friends with Elliot, then  _ fine _ . With shaking hands, Elliot got up, not looking at the way Leo’s eyes flashed with triumph when Elliot stormed out of the garden.

Around Leo, the grass withered, the plants shrinking away from him as he collapsed back onto his back, breathing hard.

* * *

 

Elliot walked into the house in a foul mood, barely stopping himself from slamming the door because then there would be questions, and Elliot wanted to be alone right now.

Actually, he wanted to be with Leo right now, but that clearly wasn’t an option.

He went to his room with as much composure as he could manage, and when he was safely in the confines of his room, he fell face flat onto his bed.

Well. That was terrible.

Elliot knew Leo enough to realize there had to be some kind of underlying reason behind the sudden outburst, but he was too tired and too reproachful to really think about it. The worst part about having somebody who knew everything about you was that they knew exactly how to hurt you, and Elliot  _ hurt _ .

He lied on his bed for a long time after that, homework put to the back of his mind as he replayed the scene in his head. Hindsight was a terrible, terrible thing, because each time he imagined it, the feeling that it was his fault, somehow, grew. Elliot could be a bit of an ass, and there had to be a reason for Leo to lash out at him like that. The problem now was to figure it out, because Leo clearly wasn’t going to tell him, and Elliot had already begun to miss Leo.

In the next few hours, Elliot came to no real conclusion, except for the fact that he was dreadfully attached to Leo, more than he had ever thought. His mind twisted the argument over again and again, making the pain sharper and his words harsher with every repeat.

When Vanessa came to call him to dinner, Elliot was buried under his covers, muttering excuses about how he was tired from school and was going to get an early night. She left him alone after that, although Elliot didn’t know whether that was a good thing; it just gave him more time to brood.

And brood Elliot did. However, Elliot was not a brooder. He was a man of action, a force of nature, so it was with determination and deep set frustration that Elliot stood up out of bed, stalking down the hallway until he sat down at his piano. He didn’t know why he didn’t think of this earlier, as he set his hands on the keys and with breaths steadying, began to play.

He didn’t know what he was playing. He thought it sounded rather awful, like that one time in his childhood when he composed a messy and loud song to drown out Ernest and Claude. Maybe he was trying to drown out something again, drown out his thoughts and Leo’s voice in his head, saying  _ Since you don’t want me?  _ over and over again.

The song did its job well, as Elliot concentrated more on the way his fingers glided and less on how Leo’s voice had gone low, dark in their argument. He focused on perfecting his chord shifts, sliding along the keys until the music settled down and became more of a song, less of an emotion.

He finished the song, his head clearer for it. Without pause, he launched into the next one, trying to refine his emotions into notes and harmonies, until they became something he could make sense of.

While playing this song, he thought of Leo. Thought of the way his fringe fell in his eyes, how Elliot always wanted to push it out of them because Leo’s eyes were lovely, he shouldn’t spend all of his time glaring or hiding them. Elliot thought of how the world became something new and exciting every time Elliot was around Leo, how Leo transformed old and worn out places and things into bright, blooming, treasures. 

Elliot thought about Leo, always beside him, never falling behind or pushing ahead. Always on the same page, always on the same level, always at the same pace. The piano smoothed out underneath his fingers, notes running like honey, blooming like flowers.

Vanessa walked into the room, unnoticed by Elliot.

When he was done, he didn’t start a new song, just sat and stared at the piano, until Vanessa cleared her throat.

“What song was that?” She asked, voice quiet in the late night. Elliot was lucky that his parents were heavy sleepers, and that Vanessa always humoured his musical forays.

Elliot hesitated, trying to find a name to put to the song.

In the end, all he said was “A love song.”

Vanessa’s eyes crinkled up into a smile, a fond one, as she told Elliot to hurry to bed.

“One more. I’ll play one more.” Elliot promised. Vanessa sighed, shaking her head as she left the room. Elliot knew he had won her permission, so he turned back to the piano.

Quarter way through his next song, something unsteady and hesitant and half finished, there was a knocking on the door. His parents were asleep. Vanessa was probably in her room upstairs.

Elliot went to go open the door, ignoring the warnings of strangers and getting house calls late at night in his head, because inside him a hope was building.

He opened the door. His hopes fell. Gilbert stood there, eyes wide and lip trembling. Elliot, trying not to show his disappointment, invited Gil in. Gil shook his head.

“I’m delivering a message,” Gil said, and Elliot wondered how he could be so timid when he was already taller than Leo and Elliot, eyes golden and full of life.

Elliot nodded. “What is it?” He asked, trying to sound mad but failing because Gil was one of the people he was most fond of, in the world.  _ Baskervilles _ , Elliot thought. Always making their home in his heart.

“Oswald says that you should go to sleep and stop,” and Gilbert winced at the words that were to come, “in his words, ‘making a fucking racket in the middle of the night banging away at that fucking piano and keeping people awake’.”

Elliot almost laughed. Maybe he really had overestimated his friendship with Leo, because if Leo thought that Elliot couldn’t realize that 1) Oswald  _ never _ swore and 2) it was Leo’s bedroom that was nearest to his piano room and 3) Leo always slept later than this, then they were not nearly as close as Elliot had thought.

“Gil, I’m going to sound very angry in a second, but it’s not at you, so don’t take it personally,” Elliot said, as way of warning. Gilbert was paling already, but he nodded.

Then, Elliot’s eyes flashed, and in the most fed up, irate tone he could muster, hissed “Tell  _ Leo _ that if he wants me to stop  _ making a fucking racket _ ,” and his voice went high in a mocking imitation, “he can come here and tell me himself, because I  _ know _ he’s awake and I  _ know _ he’s just being a petty asshole.”

Gilbert stared at Elliot, eyes wide.

“You want me to say… all of that?” Gilbert said, askance. Elliot nodded, rather pleased with his efforts.

“Yes, please. No paraphrasing. Don’t leave anything out. Say it exactly like that.” Elliot sounded downright pleasant.

Gilbert looked at Elliot like he was asking Gil to climb Mt. Everest, but he eventually steeled himself and nodded and turned to go back home. 

Elliot didn’t bother going back to the piano room. He just hung around in the hallway, adjusting the paintings on the walls, waiting for the inevitable showdown.

There were thuds down his footpath. Leo was just too predictable.

Elliot had barely gotten the door open when Leo whispered, very loudly, “Get the fuck out here.”

Elliot smiled, a pissed off, jagged and angry smile, as he followed Leo into the garden. 

“Angry at hearing somebody play a tuned piano, Leo?” Elliot said instead of a greeting, cutting right to the heart of their reason for meeting. To argue.

“You are  _ such _ an  _ asshole _ ,” Leo snapped.

“Well you’re best friends with this asshole!” Elliot yelled back, before realizing what he had said. With a thin exhale, he growled “Or, you were.”

Saying that was a mistake. They were supposed to make a few more shallow comments, weak jabs at each other, before they got deep into the heart of the argument. Elliot had broken the rhythm, because he was tired, tired of skirting around the topic and tired from an entire afternoon without Leo as his best friend and just plain tired.

Leo had the decency to look sad. Elliot decided then and there he was too exhausted to do this standing up, so he sank to the ground and sat on his doorstep. Leo looked down at him for a moment in surprise, but eventually, he joined him.

Elliot didn’t look at Leo. Asked “What did I do?”, sounding smaller than he would’ve liked.

Leo took a while to respond, but that was okay. They had time. Despite everything, Elliot still believed they had time.

“You’re going to Lutwidge.” Was the only reply he was given. It infuriated him. It confused him. It mostly broke his heart.

“Why is that something wrong?” He asked, hating the way his voice thinned and broke on the last word, hating the desperation in it. He turned to look at Leo, who was looking at him.

Leo’s eyes flashed, vehemence clear in his tone when he whispered harshly “I don’t have the money. My family, god, we aren’t like you, Elliot. We can’t just go to the most prestigious senior school in the city like it’s  _ nothing _ , like it’s a granted.”

Leo’s voice cracked halfway through. The grass growing between the cracks of Elliot’s footpath dried up. Elliot stared, speechless.

“I—I want to go to the same school as you, of  _ course _ I do, I want to be your best friend and I want to stay together but you want to go to Lutwidge and I can’t fucking follow you there, Elliot, I can’t.”

Leo sounded dangerously close to tears, so he stopped talking and glared at Elliot, defiant, defeated.

Elliot stared back.

“Okay. I won’t go to Lutwidge.”

Leo groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“I  _ knew _ you would say that, you asshole, Lutwidge is your dream! It’s been your dream for god knows how long, don’t think I didn’t notice, how can you just give that up for me?” Leo didn’t sound like he was going to cry, now, but he sure sounded like he was going to punch somebody. Most probably Elliot.

Elliot’s mouth pulled down. “I… I mean, I do want to go to Lutwidge, but it won’t be any good without you, Leo.” His voice was full of an emotion he didn’t understand, didn’t bother trying to understand.

Leo shook his head, laughing hollowly.

“I’m not letting you do that.” And that was that. Elliot changed tack.

“There are scholarships into Lutwidge, you can get all your fees covered,” he was saying but Leo was already protesting, countering him with well-practiced words.

“I’m not good enough for any of those scholarships, Elliot, I don’t have anything going for me, they’d never take me—”

“Oh my god, Leo,  _ shut up _ . Of course you’re good enough.” Elliot cut him off forcefully, grabbing the hand Leo had been waving in his explanation and grasping it tightly. “You’re more than good enough. And don’t fucking argue with me,” Leo’s open mouth shut, “your grades are amazing and if they need to be better we can just work at it, we can study together. And,  _ just let me finish holy shit _ ,” and Leo’s mouth shut again, guiltily this time, “you have your piano going for you. God, Leo, you’re the best pianist I’ve met in my life, I can say for sure you’re better than me, you’re a damn  _ genius _ . They have a music scholarship at Lutwidge. You could go for that, and with your amazing grades, you’d be a shoo-in, I swear it.”

Elliot didn’t have to tell Leo to be quiet this time. His mouth stayed closed and even, as he swallowed, eyes downcast.

“Do you really think so?”

Elliot Nightray was good at many things, a fact he had established much earlier in life. One of the things he was best at, one of his fortes, was inspiring emotion in people. Whether it was riling people up until their anger spilt over, or crying and getting half of his class to cry at the sight, or taking somebody’s hope and setting it ablaze until they believed and believed, Elliot could do it.

It was this that set alight a hope in Leo, as Elliot clasped Leo’s hands and looked dead into his eyes and said “Leo, you’re the greatest person I’ve ever known. If they don’t let you in, they don’t deserve the reputation they have.”

Elliot believed in Leo. He had witnessed firsthand the kind of magic Leo wrought, not in his affinity with plants but in his music, in his smile, in his laugh.

Leo, under the weight of Elliot’s belief, nodded.

“Okay,” he said, his mouth dry. “I’ll go for it.”

Elliot thought he could understand the way flowers came to life under Leo’s touch, because at those words Elliot felt himself light up, felt the world come into stunning focus and technicolour. He laughed, breathless, leaning forward to put his head against Leo’s chest and breathed in the life Leo emanated.

“Can we never do that again?” Elliot asked. Leo nodded, the movement steady and sure. Their hands were still clasped and Elliot squeezed, squeezed hard, a punishment at the strife Leo had just put Elliot though and a firm reminder that it was them forever; Elliot and Leo.

“I think I got white hairs,” Leo mumbled. Elliot laughed again, louder this time, the sound ringing in the clear, night air.

“Are you two quite done?”

The interruption came from the doorway to Elliot’s house, in which Vanessa stood, looking down at them with weariness. Elliot and Leo pulled apart, realizing the time of night with a shared, sheepish look.

“Sorry, Ness,” Elliot mumbled as Vanessa rolled her eyes again.

They both stood up, brushing the dirt off of themselves. Elliot looked at Leo, a quiet smile on his face.

“See you tomorrow?” He asked, the final step in their resolution.

Leo nodded. “See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, and Elliot breathed easy once more.

Leo started off down the path, and Vanessa ushered Elliot into the house with a soft scolding.

In the morning, Elliot walked blearily down the path to his gate, almost missing the way flowers had sprouted all along the walkway, a rainbow carpet that extended to the flowerbeds in the sidewalk, leading Elliot all the way to Leo’s door.

* * *

 

True to their word, they didn’t argue again. They spend the summer revising for the entrance examinations, more dedicated than they had ever been together. Leo got his piano tuned, and the two of them switched between houses to play and practice, depending on whose guardians got annoyed and kicked them out first.

When the day came, they both checked their mailboxes with their hearts in their throats. Elliot didn’t bother going inside, he ripped open the envelope with his results inside and with a loud whoop, informed Vanessa and his parents that he had  _ gotten in _ .

A similar sounding shriek came from the Baskerville household a few moments later, with Leo sprinting out of his house to wave a piece of paper at Elliot, elated, ecstatic.

They met with matching grins, giddy on the realization that senior high would yet be another adventure they partook in together.

What an adventure it was. Elliot and Leo were swamped the moment they stepped in; with new faces and new places and new teachers. The transition between elementary school and junior high had been an easy one because most of the people in their school remained the same, but Lutwidge Academy attracted people from far and wide. Elliot and Leo were in a totally new world.

This time, Elliot joined the kendo club, Leo attending all of his matches with a devotion that Elliot’s parents didn’t even have. Leo, to the surprise of nearly everybody in his life, joined broadcasting club. Elliot had to admit, hearing Leo’s level and composed voice every morning as he read off the daily announcements, that Leo was suited to it.

There was no literature club at Lutwidge, so music ensemble ended up being the only extracurricular they shared. It was also their entry point to the social world of Lutwidge, when both Elliot and Leo gained attention for being the up and coming pianists of the ensemble.

_ Competing, are they? _ people would whisper, a fact that Leo and Elliot would laugh over every time they were alone together. They competed on many things, the two of them, but music would always be something they shared. They also shared homework and lunches and secrets, and it was over the first that one of Elliot’s biggest secrets was shared.

Elliot’s popularity increased in senior high, with his loud blond hair and his fiery blue eyes, until it wasn’t uncommon when Elliot was pulled aside at lunch by some kind of girl, a confession letter clutched to her chest. He brushed them off every time, which to his ire, seemed to increase his allure to the female population of Lutwidge Academy. Leo had taken to snickering at Elliot in every instance where he came back, expression weary and holding another carefully written love letter.

“You should be nicer, Elliot. She probably worked hard on that.” Leo lectured as Elliot threw the letter into the bin on his way to Leo’s desk. He scoffed.

“She should put her time into better things.” He stated. Leo laughed at him again, teasing him for being such a  _ heartbreaker _ , while Elliot grumbled more, stabbing angrily at his lunch.

It was only near the end of their first year at Lutwidge, with the spring sunshine spurring them on to stay outside more, that they talked about it. They were sitting in Leo’s garden, the number one hotspot for Elliot and Leo confrontations, the years had proven. Their maths books were spread out in front of them and at least Elliot was trying to do work. Leo had obviously given up, both on teaching Elliot and the maths itself.

Elliot irritably mumbled “Are you going to help me or not?” at the same time Leo softly asked “Why do you always turn down your confessions?”

Elliot frowned at Leo, mostly in disapproval of his lack of care for Elliot’s ailing maths grade.

“Why does that matter?” He asked. Leo looked at Elliot like he was trying to solve a maths puzzle, right then and there.

“Because, the last time we talked about it,” and Leo blushed slightly at the memory, making Elliot snort in amusement, “you said that you would worry about dating and stuff ‘later’. Isn’t this later?”

With Leo staring at him like he was a problem to be solved, Elliot realized that there was nothing to do but tell the truth.

“I turn them down because it’s always girls. I don’t like girls. I like boys.”

Leo stared at Elliot, unblinking.

It had occurred to Elliot, halfway through saying that, that he could’ve been more cautious with this information. There was always the fear, the dread that came with coming out, of a bad reaction, of a friendship ruined for life, beyond repair. He had very rapidly overridden those thoughts, however, because there were three great truths in Elliot’s life.

Number one: he was destined for great things. A little big-headed of him to say, perhaps, but it was something he believed and worked towards, every day.

Number two: he was never going to stop playing the piano.

Number three: he, above all, above anything else he knew, knew he could trust Leo.

Elliot was not afraid of rejection, of being pushed away because he trusted Leo, knew that no matter what, Leo would stand by him.

So when Leo broke into a smile—a smile soaring and flying and completely unwarranted considering what they were just saying—and said “I can hear the hearts breaking around Lutwidge right now,”, Elliot was filled with what he could only describe as love, simple and pure.

They were quiet for a second after that, Elliot breaking into a grin to match Leo’s. When he turned back to his maths, Leo added a quiet and emotional “Thank you. For telling me.”

Elliot shrugged. “I trust you.” He said, attention already back on the maths that plagued him so. Leo’s garden fluttered to life.

* * *

 

The summer after their first year was spent lazily, luxuriously. Sure, they had homework, but they also had endless rolling slopes of grass and days of stacks of piano books and each other, so naturally, they spent the time how they wanted.

This time, they were sitting in a park, one of Leo’s favourites. Leo had told him that the plants there were all very calming, and even though Elliot didn’t understand it at all, he took Leo’s word for it. It was also out of the way, and most days, they had it to themselves, minus the ducks in the pond nearby.

Leo’s hair had grown long, past his shoulders and today he had tied it up to avoid the heat. His fringe was the same length it always had been, something that Elliot was at least sixty percent sure was due to magic. Around them, the flowers were blooming, due to the sunshine or due to Leo’s presence, Elliot didn’t care. They were lying in the grass, Elliot propped up on his elbows while Leo read out loud the book they were assigned for class. It was more efficient this way, they could spend time together and do their homework, as well as being out in the sunshine.

The tree that sheltered them was almost ready to flower, the occasional white and pink flower hanging off of the branches. It would look magnificent in full bloom, and Elliot made a mental note to drag Leo back here for that. Elliot could recognize them as magnolia flowers; Leo had told him about them once. Slow in the summer heat, Elliot stood up, reaching up into one of the low-hanging branches and pulling off one of the flowers. Leo looked up from the book with curiosity as Elliot sat down beside him.

“What are you doing?” Leo asked, affectionate in the warm afternoon.

“I’m experimenting,” Elliot replied, focus on Leo’s hair as he pulled it out of the hair tie. Leo only made some noise of protest, didn’t move outside of that.

Ernest had taught Elliot to braid hair when he was younger, claiming that the skill would make him immensely popular with the girls. Elliot was technically using it as Ernest intended, but he thought that Ernest would have a heart attack if he found out any more than that.

With light, lingering fingers, Elliot pulled Leo’s hair into a braid. He also weaved some flowers into the braid, small clusters of yellow flowers that were growing beside the two. The yellow stood out against Leo’s hair, cheerful and bright, like stars twinkling in a night sky. When Elliot was happy with the braid, he took the magnolia and tucked the stem of the flower into the hair band, finishing the braid with a satisfied hum.

Throughout the whole thing, Leo didn’t say a word. As he sat up, hands coming around to feel at the braid, fingers brushing the flowers in his hair, he didn’t say a word.

Eyes full of wonder, he looked at Elliot. Elliot blamed it on the sun, but he could feel his face redden under Leo’s gaze.

“Stop staring, it’s rude.” Elliot huffed, breaking their eye contact. Leo laughed and the sound fit in perfectly with the clear summer afternoon, bringing Elliot’s heart to life. He swore that the flowers turned to Leo as he smiled, and Elliot could understand their sentiments. He too, would turn to Leo, in any situation and any circumstance, seeking out the brilliant life Leo held in his veins.

“Leo, let’s never leave each other.” He said.

Leo smiled.

“Didn’t we promise each other that already?” He asked, gentle and lilting.

Elliot nodded.

“Yes, we did, but that was as friends.” Elliot replied, his voice quiet.

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Elliot shook his head, before hesitating and attempting to unshake his head by shaking it the other way. It didn’t work, but it did make Leo laugh again.

“It’s just that I’ve realized something,” he said, and his palms were sweaty as he watched Leo look at him curiously, shining under the summer sun.

“I think I’m in love with you, Leo.”

He breathed the words, reverential and devoted, not even thinking twice about saying it so blatantly. Like always, his trust in Leo came first and foremost, and it kept him from holding back anything from Leo.

Leo blinked, his mouth falling open slightly. Elliot, earnest and in love, waited.

“You’re in love with me?” Leo said. He shaped the words hesitantly, like if he said them too loudly they would break, the moment would shatter.

Elliot nodded. “I’m in love with you.” He repeated.

Like a shoot breaking through the earth, Leo broke into breathless, unbelieving laughter as he said “Oh my god, Elliot, only you,” and Elliot had no time to question what  _ that _ was supposed to mean, what kind of answer to his confession that was, because Leo was reaching forward. Leo’s lithe, elegant hands came into contact with Elliot’s cheeks, pulling Elliot forward and Elliot did not realize what was happening until Leo’s mouth was on his. Leo was still laughing, all breathy and thrilled and Elliot swallowed Leo’s laughter with a smile of his own, pulling Leo closer yet despite the heat because Leo was alive, Leo was electrifying and amazing and Elliot couldn’t believe he had waited this long.

Leo tasted like flowers, like oranges from the ice blocks they had been eating earlier. They were barely kissing, they were both laughing too hard and grinning too much to really get anything done but it didn’t matter because they had all the time in the world, time to learn the ins and outs of each other properly later.

When they pulled apart, Leo was still breathless, still shining as he whispered “I love you too,”.

Above them, the magnolia tree was in full bloom. Elliot looked up at it when he felt a petal fall on his forehead and gasped at the sight. Leo simply smiled at him, a secret smile that sent Elliot’s heart fluttering.

“For you,” Leo said. Promised.

Elliot couldn’t help but smile back, and the sappiness of the moment didn’t stop him from saying “Stop lying, you can’t control it.”

Leo groaned dramatically, pushing Elliot away from him as he exclaimed “I was  _ trying _ to be romantic, you asshole!” 

He couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in him, however, soon joining Elliot. Their voices, loud and pure, filled the summer air.

**Author's Note:**

> small yellow flowers from part 1: tickseed, symbolizing cheerfulness  
> primroses from part 3: symbolize youth/i can't live without u  
> spring crocus from part 4: symbolize youthful gladness  
> purple bell shaped flower from part 6: canterbury bells, symbolizing gratitude  
> magnolia from part 11: love of nature  
> small yellow clustered flowers: yarrow, symbolizing everlasting love  
> ...this fic was just a thinly dressed up excuse for flower symbolism


End file.
